


have to fool myself

by minuteparticulars



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: 3x01, F/F, just two idiots pining over each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minuteparticulars/pseuds/minuteparticulars
Summary: "It’s definitely not Reade making her feel so on edge, but what is she supposed to say? Romance has never been her strong suit, but she’s pretty sure trapped together in a cell with the taste of stale dirt lingering in her mouth from when she woke up on the ground moments ago is hardly the right time to tell her best friend that she might have feelings for her."What should have happened when Tasha saw Patterson for the first time in over a year in 3x01





	have to fool myself

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm about a year behind, but I started watching Blindspot recently because of Ashley Johnson and it was so obvious that Tasha Zapata is a lesbian and in love with Patterson that I got sucked in. Then I saw episode 3x01 and had to write this to fix all of the wasted potential...

“Alright, alright, alright.”

 

Tasha Zapata’s head whips around, the argument with Reade already forgotten, as she watches two men shove a woman with long golden hair into the cell. She feels a small sense of pride at how difficult the other woman makes it for them to wrangle her into the corner farthest away and slam the gate shut.

 

With a huff Patterson swings her hair out of her face and in an instant Tasha is back at the FBI on her first day being introduced to the Head of the Forensic Science Unit and trying to figure out why her heart is suddenly working twice as hard. Besides the fact that said golden hair falls well past her shoulders now, the newest addition to their cell looks exactly the same as Tasha remembers. Sure the clothing is a bit more West Coast with the high-waisted pants and the khaki jean jacket. _Not that it’s a bad look on her_ , Tasha thinks as she looks down at her own silk blouse and tailored work slacks suddenly feeling very overdressed. So the clothing might be new, but even with just a glance she still catches the same searching gaze in those cornflower eyes, the same telltale twist of frustration in pale-pink lips, and the same capable hands now curled into fists. She’s relieved and terrified to note that distance and time haven’t changed that much after all.

 

Her hands twitch with the same restless energy, the one she was just starting to get used to before the other woman left. The kind of restlessness that came from standing too close or staring too long… _apparently distance and time didn’t do much for these feelings either…_

 

A quiet voice brings Tasha back to the present as she hears the other woman ask what’s going on? For a moment she sounds just like when Tasha and the rest of the team found her freezing and resilient in the woods the first time she was taken. Reade takes a few steps closer and begins to explain what little he does know. He was drugged and taken late last night, but otherwise has no idea where they are or why they were taken.

 

“Well, I would say it’s good to see you both, but that may not be much of a compliment given the circumstances,” Patterson says, her eyes never leaving Tasha’s.

 

“It’s still good to see you”, Tasha whispers before she can catch herself. _Five seconds of being in the same room and you’re hopeless. It’s the drugs,_ she assures herself, _they must still be working their way through your system._ “But yeah a call or a text probably would have been enough,” she smirks in a half-hearted attempt to regain some equilibrium. She notices Patterson staring at her like she can’t quite believe Tasha’s there. _She feels the same way about being here with Reade_ , she reminds herself, _she’s probably just glad she’s not alone._

 

“Since we are here together does anyone have any brilliant ideas about why we were all taken? And why just us, why not Jane and Weller too,” Reade asks as he walks over to the stack of what looks like packaged food stacked in a corner of the cell. “They could be holding them somewhere else,” Patterson points out, “but that still doesn’t answer why they want us.”

 

“Does this have anything to do with some secret CIA operation we’re not allowed to know about?” Reade shoots Tasha a pointed look.  

 

For a moment she’s thrown off by the undercurrent of hostility she can feel in his words, but she’s never backed down from a fight before.  “You know if you had bothered to talk to me even once since I left you wouldn’t have to ask that.” She’s not the one who left the team to start a new life in Colorado or California. She didn’t try to pretend that the last two years never happened. So she certainly won’t feel bad about going somewhere she can get results and not just more questions. Before he can respond footsteps begin to echo from down the hall. On instinct Tasha stops talking and Patterson moves over in her direction. Taking a step forward, the CIA agent makes sure Patterson is in between her and the door of the cell. She’s grateful for the look of understanding Reade sends her as he steps forward. Whatever their problems, they’ve always been on the same page in the field.

 

She watches as a man steps through the gate and waits off to the side as two more enter pulling a giant safe behind them. The first man steps forward and makes his demand. Crack this safe within the next eight hours or die. He tacks on “if you think you can” at the end and Tasha feels Patterson scoff. A firm hand grips her waist as Patterson presses closer peering over her shoulder to get a better look at the safe. The heat from those five fingers alone is enough to send her reeling and she sends up a silent prayer that the other woman doesn’t notice her shiver. Tasha calls out to the guards before they leave,

 

“Why us? What do you gain from taking the three of us?”

 

“Who better to have break into FBI property than the FBI itself. And I paid for the best so here you are.”

 

“That’s some real bad luck then considering only one of us even works for the FBI,” she remarks hoping he’ll take the bait and go back to whoever he paid to get more answers. If she can just buy them some time she can figure out a way to get everyone out of here. Plus the thought that a certain former forensic scientist _still_ isn’t safe despite leaving the FBI is enough to have that restless feeling flare up again. Tasha knows she’ll do whatever it takes to get Patterson out of here and back to the normal life she deserves, but she can’t let them see her desperation. Instead, she holds his gaze like she was trained to do. He brushes the comment off and points at the woman who has now moved out from behind Tasha. “She _is_ the best and she will open the safe or watch you both die while she tries.” With that he signals and all of the men exit the cell.

 

Tasha knows what Reade is going to say before he even opens his mouth so she cuts him off, “We have to open it.” She doesn’t like it either, letting these men use Patterson, but she doesn’t see any other option. If they refuse their captors will just kill them and get someone else to do it instead. Someone else who may not have as much of a conscience as the three of them. She tells Reade as much, but of course he’s the Assistant Director of the New York Division of the FBI and the FBI does not negotiate with terrorists. If her eyes could roll any further back into her head they would. It’s this all or nothing mentality that drove her into the arms of the CIA in the first place. And if the FBI happened to lose their best forensic scientist around the same time she left, well, that was just a coincidence. She catches Patterson trying to smother a smile at her reaction before picking up the bag thrown at their feet by the guards before they left.

 

Reade is still going on about the dangers of handing over whatever the safe contains, but Patterson stops him with the wave of a hand. “Enough! Reade, you’re angry because Tasha left the FBI to go work with Keaton. Tasha you’re angry because Reade stopped talking to you once you did. None of that changes the fact that Tasha is right.” Tasha can’t stop the petty satisfaction that wells up when Patterson takes her side. “If we’re going to get out of this alive we need to keep them happy for a little longer,” she shoots a look over her shoulder and motions to the corner where the crate of packaged food sits, “so go sit over there, _quietly_ please, and let me work.” It’s a look Tasha knows well. It’s the look that manages to stop Weller in his tracks every time he’s in too much of a hurry to know what the latest tattoo means. It’s the look Tasha’s only ever on the receiving end of when she tries to convince Patterson to leave her lab and eat normal food for dinner.

 

While normally she would give Patterson a look of her own she doubts that will work this time. Instead, Tasha sulks over to the crate and slides down until her legs are straight out in front of her. She must have lost her heels at some point during the kidnapping and she can feel the rust-colored dirt coating her feet. She knows she’s not really angry with Reade. Patterson was wrong about that. Sure he cut off all contact when she left for the CIA, but that was probably for the best anyways. The FBI and the CIA don’t have the greatest track record working together and she doubts that would change overnight. So maybe a little bit of time was needed to figure out if they could work together again in the future. So no, it’s not really Reade she’s upset with at all.

 

She _is_ upset that after spending the past year becoming painfully aware of just how important Patterson is to her, she has the audacity to show up here. Sure Patterson was kidnapped too, but that’s no excuse for the way she still smells like French vanilla coffee fresh out of the break room, or the way her face looks all scrunched up when she’s concentrating just like when they would work together on a new tattoo huddled over the console in her lab, or the way her hair still looks soft enough to make Tasha’s fingers itch with the need to feel for herself as Patterson brushes it behind her ear. It’s _definitely_ not Reade making her feel so on edge, but what is she supposed to say? Romance has never been her strong suit, but she’s pretty sure trapped together in a cell with the taste of stale dirt still lingering in her mouth from when she woke up on the ground moments ago is hardly the right time to tell her best friend that she might have feelings for her.

 

Instead she keeps her mouth shut and watches the blonde work. She watches as her friend’s fingers glide gently over the wheel turning it slowly first to the left, then the right. She gets lost in the way Patterson’s eyes light up every time there’s a faint click. She tries not to memorize the way her teeth work over her bottom lip as she focuses on the next turn. She doesn’t know how long she’s spent sitting against the crate staring at the woman in front of her when all of sudden something lands in her lap shocking her out of her reverie. A package of Mexican-Style Chicken Stew stares up at her. She turns to Reade as he nods down at it, “We may as well keep our energy up in case we end up being useful at some point.” Begrudgingly, she tears open the package and looks at the contents. It hardly looks edible, but it’s a distraction from her own thoughts so she’s grateful nonetheless.

 

The distraction doesn’t last long as Tasha makes it halfway through her bag before she hears the muffled thump of Patterson’s jacket hitting the ground. She doesn’t blame her, it’s hot as hell wherever they’re being kept and Tasha’s already undone the top few buttons of her own shirt a while ago. Besides, Patterson’s still wearing the tank-top she had on under the jacket _so_ _get it together, Zapata_! It’s just that it’s been over 365 days since Tasha’s last seen the blonde and a girl can only deal with so much. Maybe on a good day she could handle a sleeveless Patterson without falling apart, but she’s been drugged, kidnapped, and threatened all within the last 24 hours. Suffice it to say today is not a good day.

 

She can feel herself staring a little too intently at the packaged food in her hands, but it can’t be any more obvious than the expression she knows she’s wearing right now. Reade kicks her foot and she tears herself away from her self-imposed staring contest with the stew to look over. He’s making a face that hits a little too close to _knowing_ for comfort and she feels something hot like shame work its way up into her chest. In all of her worrying she forgot to worry about him. She has to stop him before he makes this worse so she offers him some of her stew and mocks him when he complains about how he would rather die than eat another bite. _Crisis averted_ , she thinks, and the moment passes.

 

Maybe fifteen more minutes pass before she hears Patterson release a sigh as the safe swings open and then she’s looking over at Tasha. Tasha stands up to get a better look at the safe, _sure, at the safe…_ She knows she should be more concerned with what’s inside, but Patterson’s still looking at her and Tasha lets herself indulge just for a moment. The flush of success is spreading across the blonde’s cheeks, down to her collarbones, and Tasha couldn’t look away if she wanted to now. She decides to blame the Mexican-Style Chicken stew for the way her stomach turns over at the sight. There’s a satisfied curl to lips Tasha has spent far too much time thinking about over the last year and the impulse to kiss them is nearly irresistible. _Nearly_ , she thinks, because Reade is standing next to her and there’s something inside that safe worth kidnapping three people over and she really shouldn’t be thinking about using said safe as a sturdy place to push Patterson up against and…

 

Reade nudges Tasha back away from the safe to toe it open further and she stumbles barefoot out of her daydream and back into a cell that’s starting to feel a little too stifling. _Still being held in a cell – right. There will be time to be embarrassed by what a complete disaster you are later, if you’re still alive._ She refuses to let herself get swept up again in those kinds of thoughts. It’s dangerous enough that she’s already wasted so much time on them instead of looking for a way out. Focused on the task at hand again, she peers inside and sees… a box? It’s so small compared to the size of the safe that Patterson is already picking it up before Tasha realizes what she’s holding. All of that work for a computer processor.

 

The men return before they have a chance to figure out anything more than that the processor once belonged to the FBI and likely contains information they don’t want falling into the wrong hands. If the threat of death wasn’t enough to keep her focused before, the way these men are looking at Patterson like she’s exactly what they were promised certainly does the trick. The same man from before orders Patterson to unlock the encryption on the processor before they return. Tasha watches them go this time alert to the fact that the same man who locked them in before does so again now.

 

Tasha wants to tell Patterson that she doesn’t have to do this – jump through their hoops and solve their puzzles – just to save her and Reade, but the forensic scientist is already rambling about magnesium powder and stew. Tasha catches on before Reade does and Patterson’s looking at her that way again, like she can’t believe Tasha’s here, but there’s no time to wonder if maybe this look could be reserved just for her. Tasha begins to hand over packages of food before ripping open some of her own to find the magnesium packets inside.

 

Reade stands there watching the two women frantically rip open package after package, “Are we sure this is even going to work?”

 

“Did you _really_ just ask that question… this is Patterson we’re talking about.” Tasha’s already nudging him back towards the crate, “Come on, you were the one who wanted to be useful.”

 

“I wanted to be ready in case we needed to be useful. I meant more like knocking out some guards not opening up more of this foul stuff.”

 

“There will be plenty of time for that, and I’m sure plenty of guards as well, once we light this up. For now, get cozy with the rest of that Mexican-Style Chicken stew,” Patterson orders as she begins to tinker with the processor. Tasha doesn’t know what comes over her then, maybe it’s the familiarity of the three of them bickering like this again or the fact that the restlessness under her skin finally has some direction, but she summons what little confidence she has left and looks over to Patterson with a quick wink before handing off the next magnesium packet. Patterson hesitates for just a second before grabbing the packet and hiding her now slightly rosy face behind the processor once more.

 

A few minutes later and they’ve managed to fit what Patterson believes is enough magnesium inside of the processor to create a decent flash bang that should give them a singular opportunity to take down the guards. After they put all of the empty food packages back in the crate just to make sure nothing looks out of place the three of them settle against the nearest wall, Reade on one side of the crate with Tasha and Patterson huddled together on the other, and wait for whatever comes next.

 

 

 _She cut her hair_. She should be thinking about what they’re going to do once they finally get out of this cell or how she’s going to get the guards to stand close enough to the processor for her plan to actually work. Anything other than how _good_ Tasha looks. She knew running to California hadn’t worked the second she saw the former FBI agent again. But then there was a safe to crack and a bomb to build and there was no time to process. No time to process the way Tasha’s new haircut frames her jaw just right or the weight of dark hazel eyes on her back as she worked or the rush of affection she felt when Tasha didn’t hesitate earlier to follow her directions despite their time apart.

 

Except now there’s no more work to be done. Only waiting. Waiting and hoping that she hasn’t doomed them all to a worse fate if this doesn’t work. The comforting weight against her side and the certainty of her calculations as she goes over them again and again double checking her work are the only things keeping her calm. She can hear quiet steady breathing on the other side of the crate as Reade rests for the fight ahead of them. Patterson shifts to lean a little further against Tasha trying to get comfortable and tries not to notice the brush of hair against her neck.

 

 _It shouldn’t be possible for a haircut to have such an effect on a person_. Patterson knows she could solve this puzzle too if she just gave into temptation and felt the soft chestnut locks for herself _._ She knows it’s not the haircut though. It’s just Tasha. And the smile she reserves for Patterson – the one that starts out as a smirk and grows into something wild and blinding. Or how she throws her head back when she laughs loud and reckless at Patterson’s admittedly terrible puns. Or maybe it’s the way the brunette can leave her tongue-tied with a single wink, _like earlier_ , she recalls as she tries not to blush for a second time. She could come up with a million hypotheses for the source of her feelings, but they would all lead to the same conclusion.

 

Patterson glances over again to make sure Tasha is really here – that she’s not just another mirage pulled from her memory on the nights she allows herself to miss her friend more than she should. She’s still there, as breathtaking as ever, and Patterson feels her chest constrict at the sight. She had noticed Tasha undoing the top buttons of her blouse earlier and, in a herculean effort, had kept her attention on the lock in her hands instead. But she’s never claimed to be anything more than human and glancing over at Tasha now all she can see is smooth tan skin sweeping down the slope of her neck and ending with a glimpse of black lace. She forces her gaze back up towards the front gate and resolves to keep it there until they either escape or she dies from longing or mortification, at this point she’s not sure which.

 

It’s not like she hasn’t imagined tracing that path with her fingertips before, _oh boy has she_ , it’s just that it feels different now with Tasha sitting next to her and the recent knowledge that she can’t really run from these feelings.

 

“So California seems to be treating you well.” Hearing the other woman’s voice, in this moment that they’ve managed to carve out just for them, is a blow to her newly acquired resolve and she has to close her eyes at the flash of heat it sends through her.

 

“I don’t know about that, but no one’s tried to kill me since I got there so that’s something. Well until now I guess.” She hears Tasha laugh and has to stifle a smile of her own. “It isn’t the same though, without you – the team I mean – it just feels wrong.” There’s so much she wants to say to Tasha about the reasons she left, the same reasons pulling her back, but she doesn’t know how to start. She’s not sure she would have the courage to anyways. And Tasha deserves someone who would have the courage to tell her how they feel. Someone who doesn’t come with years of baggage in the dating department. Someone who wouldn’t run.

 

Except then Tasha responds, “I missed you too, you know” like she has doubts of her own. There’s something about the way she won’t look over at Patterson as she says it that makes her wonder if she’s the only one who wants more than they think they deserve.

 

“Tasha, I –" the gate is thrown open as the guards rush in and haul them to their feet, waking Reade up in a hurry. She can feel Tasha tense next to her as one of the guards grabs her by the arm. She realizes they’re waiting for her to verify her work so she gives them the first excuse she can think of, something about an overheating issue, anything to give Tasha and Reade a chance to get into position. _We’ll only have one shot at this_. She hums the calculations to herself one last time under her breath as she takes a few steps back and prepares for the expected flash.

 

Everything is still while the computer boots up and then there’s nothing but motion as the processor flashes and Tasha and Reade snap into action. Patterson reaches out for the guard in front of her and is pleased to discover her FBI training hasn’t completely left her. It’s over within seconds. _We always were a good team_ , she thinks as she looks over just in time to see Tasha knock out one guard with the butt of his own gun. The sight of Tasha standing over the unconscious man - her hair tousled and eyes gleaming from the adrenaline of the scuffle – is enough to render Patterson speechless.

 

With the image fixed in her mind, _like really really fixed definitely not going anywhere any time soon will probably be thinking about that tonight after –_ “Patterson?! Let’s go!” She can barely hear Reade over the ringing in her ears, but then Tasha is there and she’s grabbing her by the elbow.

 

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

 

Despite the persistent ringing she can hear the concern in Tasha’s voice. She takes in with a start just how close they are now. Mere inches between them and the urge to close that distance now while she still has the chance is stronger than ever. Patterson watches concern give way to panic as she realizes she never answered the question. Her breath still caught in her throat from the other woman’s proximity Patterson manages to shake her head in response. Something like relief passes over Tasha’s face before she thrusts one of the guns into Patterson’s hands.

 

“Well come on then, you know Reade won’t last two seconds without us.” The warmth of her grip leaves Patterson’s elbow only to find her hand instead as she pulls her along out of the cell and into what Patterson thinks will likely be certain death. She hears shouts and then gunfire in the distance as she looks down at the hand in hers. _But what a way to go…_

 

 

 

She should have known this had something to do with Jane and her tattoos. A year later and Tasha feels like she’s watching Jane climb out of that bag all over again. New tattoos, new puzzles, new traps. It’s a lot to process. Except this time she’s not an FBI agent assigned to the Jane Doe project. She’s on the outside watching Reade, Keaton, and Director Hirst discuss what happens next. It’s obvious how this will play out. Keaton won’t want to give up control of the tattoos this time and Reade, ever the people-pleaser, will propose some kind of joint task force. As the only person at the CIA who has any kind of experience with the tattoos she’ll be the natural choice to represent their agency. Jane and Weller will want to stay and help which means the old team will be back together again.

 

 _Well, not the entire team…_ Her eyes find Patterson on the other side of the briefing room. A part of Tasha wants the forensic scientist to walk away from all of this. She wants her to go back to California and forget all about the new tattoos. At least that way she can’t get sucked into whatever new tricks Roman has planned out for them. And Tasha’s feelings can stay right where they should be, buried deep down inside.

 

The rest of her though wants the blonde to stay. She wants to walk past the lab late at night and see her there bent over the computer module. She wants to bring her coffee with far too much sugar just the way she likes it in the mornings and pull her away from the office when she’s been stuck on one tattoo for too long. She wants to take her back to her apartment, order Thai from their favorite place, and watch her start to unwind as she tells her all about Silicon Valley. Heartache is a small price to pay to have that again Tasha tells herself as she watches Patterson catch up with the other analysts.

 

Sooner than she expected Keaton and Hirst are walking back out into the briefing room with Reade having reached a compromise. Keaton doesn’t stay long after he congratulates her on her new position with the CIA-FBI joint task force. Weller and Jane don’t disappoint when they jump at the opportunity to come back. Reade extends the same invitation to Patterson and for one heart-stopping moment Tasha thinks she’s actually going to turn it down. She’s talking about the people she left behind in Silicon Valley and the app she started and she’s very pointedly not looking at Tasha. It only takes a moment though for the excuses to peter out before she’s relenting.

 

“Okay okay, I’ll think about it! I mean let’s face it you guys would probably be lost without me. And I have missed this.” This time Tasha has to ignore the way Patterson looks right at her.

 

Reade dismisses them not too long after that to get some rest and Tasha is already thinking about the hot shower waiting for her back at her apartment when she hears, “Oh that’s alright I – I don’t really have anywhere to go so I’ll just get to work on these new tattoos.” It’s stupid, she knows, but she’s always been a little too impulsive when it comes to a certain blonde and she’s offering up her bed for the night before she can stop herself. “We’ve all been through a lot today I won’t let you stay here and work yourself to exhaustion. Just stay with me.”

 

If she thought Patterson’s excuses before were sad the ones she issues now are even worse. All it takes is the quirk of an eyebrow and a disbelieving look for Tasha to get herself a new roommate for the night. An incredibly attractive new roommate who she may or may not have very real very serious feelings for… _Great idea, Tasha. Great idea._

The ride over to her place is mostly silent, but thankfully not an awkward one. Tasha takes a moment to find the spare key she hid outside her apartment, hers lost at some point during the kidnapping, while Patterson fidgets next to her. She can feel the tension between them now worse than before without any distractions to keep them occupied. She lets them in and graciously tells Patterson to take the shower first more out of self-preservation than politeness. She spends the next few minutes picking up around the living room, making her bed, and getting out a spare set of pajamas for Patterson. Unfortunately, this leaves her with far too much time to nervously pace around her room and try not to think of the woman currently using her shower. A few more minutes of pacing and the door opens just enough for Patterson to peak her head out.

 

“I totally didn’t think about a change of clothes before I started and I would really like to not put those clothes back on so if it’s possible could I  –"

 

“Breathe, Patterson. I already got some out for you. I’ll just leave them on the bed and wait for you in the living room.” She’s already bolting from the room before Patterson can open the door any further. _I should probably take my own advice and breathe before I pass out_. She makes her way into the kitchen and leans back against the counter. With her head slumped over and eyes squeezed shut she’s too busy trying to get her thoughts together to notice at first when the bedroom door opens and Patterson steps out. Tasha does notice though when she takes a hesitant step towards the kitchen, one foot tucked behind the other and hands fiddling with the hem of Tasha’s shirt that she borrowed. _She’s wearing my shirt… she’s wearing my shirt and she’s in my apartment and she’s going to sleep in my bed… Yeah, I’m totally screwed._

                                        

“How long have you lived here?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts by Patterson’s question. It takes her a second to get over the way her old NYPD t-shirt fits Patterson and the amount of smooth skin the pajama shorts reveal before she really processes the question. “Just about a year, I moved not that long after I left for the CIA. My old place had been bugged by so many people at that point that a fresh start sounded like a good idea.” She can tell the answer bothers Patterson by the little wrinkle that forms just above the crook of her nose and the way her bottom lip pouts ever so slightly. Patterson is walking around the living room now tracing her fingers over her new sofa, the bookshelf, the coffee table. When the blonde looks back up her eyes shimmer faintly and she sucks in a quiet breath.

 

“You’ve lived here for a year and I never even knew you moved.” Patterson moves to the other side of the kitchen putting the island between them and Tasha watches as she folds in on herself crossing her arms. She can tell Patterson feels uncomfortable now, out of place, and she hates that. Patterson shouldn’t feel like that, not here. Not in her new apartment and never around her.

 

“It’s not like that, I just –" there’s no point in continuing, she knows whatever she says next won’t fix this. It’s been too long to pretend that they were both just too busy to talk and the truth is she’s still not sure it was a good idea to invite her here now. Come tomorrow afternoon Patterson will likely be back on a plane headed towards Silicon Valley and she’ll be alone again haunted by the memory forming in front of her.

“You what? You didn’t think I would want to know that my best friend moved? That she lives in a completely different neighborhood! A neighborhood, by the way, that isn’t even close to all of our usual places. I mean do they even deliver to this neighborhood?”

 

“If you want our usual I can just go pick it up it’s really not –"

 

“It’s not about the food!” The statement bursts out of Patterson as she takes an involuntary step forward catching herself with a hand flat on the island.

 

“It’s not about the food or the neighborhood or the new apartment. It’s about the fact that you have this whole new life and I’m not a part of it!” If Tasha’s shocked by her words then Patterson looks downright floored by them. One second, two seconds, a third pass between them as Tasha watches the other woman collect herself. She knows Patterson doesn’t like to lose control, not after she struggled for so long to get it back, so to see her like this is alarming. She’s still trying to figure out how to respond to this latest revelation when Patterson begins to slowly step around the island towards her. She doesn’t look small or uncomfortable now. Instead, the set of her shoulders and her steps are sure as she holds Tasha’s gaze. With a jolt she realizes that it’s the first time either of them have done so since they were reunited without looking away. She notices the other woman’s eyes are clear of the conflict clouding them since she offered up her bed for the night.

 

The counter at her back keeps her from taking the step backwards she so desperately wants as Patterson keeps moving until all that separates them is a shallow breath. It’s a little unnerving, the way Patterson just stares at her for a moment, before she breaks off to let her gaze wander around the apartment.

 

“I missed so much being away. I missed the team and solving cases together and feeling like my work matters. And all of those are good reasons to come back, better even than the ones I had to leave in the first place, but they’re not what I missed most. _Who_ I missed most.”

 

Tasha’s trying to follow what Patterson’s saying, she really is, but Patterson’s gaze is back on her again and Tasha has spent far too long convincing herself that all of this is impossible to give that up now. For all she knows this is some elaborately cruel trick her mind is playing on her and she’s still stuck in that prison cell in the desert. Like she’ll blink and the counter holding her up will give way to metal bars and hard-packed earth. Just in case she makes sure to keep her eyes locked on the woman in front of her as she starts to talk again.

 

“After David, after Borden, I promised I wouldn’t do that to myself again or to anyone else for that matter. I wouldn’t let myself fall in love. But I’m not so sure it counts as breaking a promise if it happened long before the promise was even made. Besides, it never felt like this with them no matter how hard I tried.”

 

 _She came back for someone_ , Tasha realizes, _someone she knew – no - someone she loved before Borden, before David even._ “I don’t understand, there’s someone you –"

 

Patterson takes a step back and lets her head drop as she cuts her off with a muttered, “God for someone so sharp you can be awfully dense, you know.” Tasha holds her breath as Patterson slowly raises a hand towards her face and runs the pad of her thumb ever so slightly along the line of her cheek down to the corner of her lips before it drops back to her side. Tasha’s eyes flutter slightly at the sensation as the breath trapped in her chest stutters out. “It’s you, Tasha. I’m in love with you, I think I have been for a very long time, and I ran to the other side of the country to try and figure out how to stop.”

 

“Did you… figure it out?”

 

Tasha has a million questions like how long or why she never said anything before, but none of that matters if the answer is yes.

 

“Oh… I think all I figured out was that you can’t really run from something so, well, inevitable you know. And I know that’s not what you were expecting when you invited me to stay with you and I’ve probably ruined our friendship forever,” Patterson’s rushing now, talking over herself, “and it’s not like there’s even a chance…” The fact that Patterson thinks she’s alone in this, that there’s any universe out there where Tasha isn’t crazy about her, is enough to snap the brunette out of her dumbstruck state.

 

“Patterson! So what I’m getting is… you like me. And you went and designed a super popular,” she can’t help but give in to old habits a little, “super _nerdy_ app becoming a millionaire in the process just to try and get over me. Only it didn’t work… am I getting everything so far?”

 

“Well now you’re just being cruel, if I wanted to be ridiculed about my hopeless feelings I would just go back to talking to Rich about it.” Patterson looks like she’s trying to decide if she should be more heartbroken over the fact that she just ruined everything or upset that Tasha seems to be mocking her over it. “And for the record technically I said that I’m in love with you so if you’re going to be a jerk about it you can at least be accurate.” _Upset it is then_ , Tasha notes with no small degree of amusement as she cuts Patterson’s rant off.

 

“We’ll come back to the fact that you apparently decided to confide in a man who named himself Rich Dotcom of all people later. For now let’s get back to the important part. Namely that you _love_ me and that I’m not the only one who’s being dense right now.” Patterson looks like she wants to argue with her over this point, but Tasha forges ahead too aware of how fragile this moment is to stop now.

 

“You see I think I’ve been in love with you for a very long time too. Only it took you leaving for me to realize just how bad it was and then once I did I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I started seeing you everywhere in the office and I just couldn’t stay there anymore. So I ran to the CIA and they gave me a reason to forget.”

 

“Did you… forget?”

 

“Hmm, you know a wise woman once told me that things like this are kind of inevitable so I suppose I never really stood a chance.”

 

She wants to be smug about using the other woman’s words against her. She wants to revel in the fact that she managed to be smooth _for once_ in front of the woman she loves. She wants to enjoy the way Patterson’s jaw drops as all of the pieces come together and the way her eyes glaze over as they fall attentively to her lips. She wants a lot of things now that she’s finally being honest with herself, but all of these thoughts come to a dead stop as Patterson steps back into her space. She looks like she’s still not sure she’s allowed to be there, so close, and Tasha may not always have the answers she’s looking for, but she can erase this doubt at least.

 

In the back of her mind she knows she should go slow, she wants to savor this moment after all, but the second she feels the barest hint of soft pale-pink lips against her own she’s too far gone for rational thought. Patterson’s lips are softer than Tasha’s imagination could have ever credited her with and the way they part when she slides a hand through golden hair tucking it back behind the other woman’s ear sets off a chain reaction. Knees slightly shaky, she pushes up off the counter intent on taking back some control. She needs to feel Patterson against her, as much of her as she can reasonably feel at the moment, and she needs it now. Her body moves almost on its own and she has Patterson pressed up against the island counter before she even has to break the kiss for air. The move brings Patterson flush against her and she can feel the same shiver she felt before, back in the cell with Patterson pressed against her from behind, race down her spine only this time she does nothing to hide the way her body responds.

 

Instead she slips a leg in between the blonde’s to help hold her up and free up both hands so she can kiss her the way she’s always imagined, taking her time to show Patterson just how much she wants this, how much she wants _her_. This kiss is just as intoxicating as the first as her hands grip the fabric of the worn out t-shirt around Patterson’s waist like a lifeline. Pressed so close together she feels a hum in Patterson’s chest before a whimper leaves her lips. Tasha’s mind goes blank at the sound and if the flush that makes its way up Patterson’s neck and across her face wasn’t so distracting she might be tempted to tease her over it. As it stands, she’s more than happy to give in to the distraction.

 

She’s already leaning back in to find out just how far down that blush goes when she hears Patterson gasp out, “Wait! Tasha, oh god, just wait please.” She feels the smallest bit of pressure as Patterson pushes her back and she can’t stop the thoughts that come next. _She didn’t want you to kiss her. She doesn’t want you like that. She didn’t mean any of it and now you’ve gone and forced this on her like some kind of –_ She’s pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by a hand resting over her collarbone, one finger tracing the outline visible past the neckline of her shirt.

 

“I don’t want to stop, _believe me,_ I don’t want to stop and I can’t really believe I’m saying this right now, but uh –" the blonde trails off as her eyes shift to the finger now following the neckline of Tasha’s shirt.

 

“But…” Tasha prompts, eager to know exactly why Patterson put an end to their impromptu kiss.

 

“Right!” Patterson snatches her hand back as if burned and brings her gaze back up to meet Tasha’s. “But, there is so much I want to talk about and I know that if I let you keep going I won’t be able to remember any of it. Plus I’ve waited too long for this to not do it right.” Patterson’s eyes grow wide as she rushes to continue, “Not that there’s a right way to do it or anything I just always thought that if I ever actually told you how I felt I’d have the chance to… well it sounds stupid now.” She’s twisting the bottom of her shirt between her fingers and her bottom lip between her teeth and Tasha won’t let her be out on this ledge alone no matter how scary it may be.

 

“Whatever it was that you wanted, I’m sure I’ve wanted it too.” She reaches out to nudge Patterson’s chin up with a finger until she’s looking at her again. “Tell me?”

 

“I just always thought I might get the chance to woo you is all. I could never bring myself to like the people you dated before, and obviously part of that was because of how I feel about you, but another part was that I thought you deserved better. You deserved - you deserve - someone who knows you well enough to know what you like, what you might think is romantic even. And nobody knows you better than your best friend, right? So maybe I could be that person,” Patterson’s hands grow still as she shrugs, “but only if you want that.”

 

Tasha takes Patterson’s hands in hers and pulls her closer until she’s closed the distance Patterson created between them. Stroking her thumb over the beating pulse she can feel under the skin of the other woman’s wrist Tasha tries for a smirk, but the giddiness of the last five minutes is too much and she can feel herself beaming at the thought of actually getting to date Patterson.

 

“I think I might be okay with that. And since you’re staying…” Tasha’s grip tightens slightly at the thought that she might be wrong, but Patterson just nods and motions for her to continue as she slides her hands out past Tasha’s grip and flat against the fabric of her blouse to press against her stomach. Tasha feels a flicker of heat at the contact and has to remind herself that they stopped for a reason. Back on track, she leans in to press their foreheads together and takes one last steadying breath before she says, “Since you’re staying, it sounds like we’ll have all the time we want to do this whatever way we want to.”

 

Patterson pulls back with a look Tasha knows well. It’s the same one she gets when she’s struck all over again by just how far she’s fallen for the woman in front of her.

 

“All the time we want sounds like it just might be enough.”


End file.
